Two Letters More
by Monella
Summary: The first time Bond truly believed the words that happened to fall from the genius' lips was the one time he truly didn't need to say them. Because for the first time someone trusted James, not 007.


Written for trickshotavenger on tumblr and the prompt was:

"Q and James' first Valentine and Q confessing his love to James". First time writing 00Q.  
Posted both on here and on AO3, part one of my **Moments in a Lifetime** series. I hope you all enjoy. x

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"Just read it."

One day the way the room smelt of Chinese food and red wine would be nothing but a fond memory, light bulbs fixed so they wouldn't flicker as they did that evening and decorations in place of the yet to be noticed space. But looking back many things would be worth fond smiles: pillows used as chairs, white walls only marked by the odd testing of different colours (which had somehow ended up being decorated with formulas and codes written on top). Another time and place the memory of chuckles filling comfortable silence would be longed for more than anything.

After six months of sleeping together Bond truly didn't know how he had not developed any form of immunity to how Q's already gentle tone would get softer and more defined when he truly wanted the spy to do something. Developing a resistance was still high on his to do list but it never seemed quite worth the effort. Of course, such a fact was only made more ironic when considering how hard Bond had attempted to keep them as just sex- had they even had a single date? Somehow it was unlikely eating takeout at Q's almost completely unfurnished flat counted as a date.

Not that the spy had any idea how they had ended up not being a one night stand after all. Everything from their first (furious) kiss to then had been filled with changes leaking through the cracks time had made in his stubbornness. Between what should have been a one night stand by all standards and then it had almost become a routine: Q had already joked that if Bond had not been so good at getting into the flat he would have already had his own set of keys seeing how regularly he was over.

"Trying to bore me to death so soon, Q?"

Q's laugh was small, nerves decorating it despite how he clearly found the suggestion ridiculous, his own tone managing to be both dry and warm. "As if I'd need your awareness for that." He smiled at the other, positioned on his crossed legs like a waiting child, both eager and dreading whatever reaction his request would cause. At least from where he was it was easy to observe Bond, who was leaning against the wall as if for once in his life he didn't have to always be on his guard. Perhaps that was part of why he liked being around Q so much, because the genius had both an easy calming effect on him and because when he ran his fingers over the scars that littered the spy's body. There was never any disgust, fear or curiosity when he did see them but rather simple understanding.

MI6 left few unscathed, even if they didn't all show the damage done to them. Since meeting it had been hard to not notice how even Q had seemingly faded a little, some of the over lived innocence in his eyes leaving.

Placing the white box aside Bond paused to balance the chopsticks on the top, eyes running over the room he knew so well. Much alike his own flat the equivalent of furniture were a couple of cushions on the floor to replace chairs and their table was a hideous red carpet Q had never bothered to remove. Despite his dry tone he was genuinely curious as to what Q didn't want to verbalise asking for, their humour continuing between them in its usual odd pace, not reflecting the hesitance that decorated Q's almost constantly bright eyes. Breaking eye contact the older man finally leaned over to pick up the papers the genius had placed on the ground between them, not making a point of showing he had noticed how Q's gaze had moved back to the food he was simply toying with and his usual confidence somewhat lacking.

The Quartermaster took a small sip of his drink as he attempted to look focused on picking up a tricky grain of rice, allowing Bond time to read through what he was asking for. Brown locks fell onto pale skin as he tilted his head further, stopping himself from looking at the other. The choice overall would be Bond's and he wouldn't argue if it wasn't something the spy was comfortable agreeing to. Having his reasons for asking was different to not respecting whatever choice asking would trigger.

Silence soon seemed a little less content as the sound of fingers turning pages filled it, Bond taking his time to read exactly what was said, even his pokerface slipping to show the surprise that was clearly taking hold of him. It wasn't a predictable request and even Q hadn't thought of it until a couple of days earlier, his over thinking everything making the thoughts not leave his mind until he had some form of closure. Remaining on his crossed legs he leaned forwards to pick his glass up, daring a glance to see how Bond was taking the request.

Mask back up at least a decent amount Bond seemed to hesitate, glancing back at the other before putting the pages back in order. Their meaning seemed clear enough but still he felt like he should read them once again just to be completely true. Over the last few months they had managed to hide their relationship with ease, people just assuming they were a very odd friendship. Signing could possibly compromise that- something Bond had thought Q preferred to keep professionalism when being watched.

"Why?" It was a fair question, the spy's tone a little more emotionless than he had been aiming for. Blue eyes focused fully on Q as remained perfectly still, back still leaning against the wall and the suddenly heave documents held tight. His instinct twirled as it tried to work out why Q would ask him of all people. "As usual I don't think I understand your reasoning." Well, at least his tormenting humour was still there and Q's lips curved slightly at that.

"It's simple reasoning." Q answered, struggling to come up with a simple explanation that wouldn't make him seem too ridiculous. Nerves grew a bit as he swallowed, trying to at least keep his tone steady. "In the occasion where something happens to me and someone has to make important decisions I'd prefer it be someone who cares at least a little to me. MI6 may control a great deal of my life but I'd rather some sort of power goes to who I want it to. It's not like I have any family." He paused as he shrugged, rant started as he gave up fighting his worries. "I understand if you don't want to agree it just... Even if we end up stopping whatever we are then we still get along. After a while of hacking I found some of your unused aliases, the ones you mentioned having for if you ever wanted to leave MI6 behind... And it didn't take much to make one seem completely real with its own work up... So if you agree it could be in that name rather than this one meaning only we'd know it was to do with you." Another tiny pause. "It's not official yet."

A living will naming him as the final decider if he so wished. Bond was certain his eyebrows had floated off his forehead as he listened to Q's mini-rant, eyes only briefly flickering over the name he'd only mentioned in passing to Q one evening. So much for the other not focusing on what he said- he'd have to look out for that. Speaking seemed a little too difficult as he refocused on the words, still not fully understand what on earth must have been running through Q's mind when he had chosen him.

"You do realise I'm far more likely to die than you are, right?"

He immediately regretted that being his first point but it was still relevant. Out of the two of them Bond was more likely to be the one who went first for several reasons. Unless something was wrong with Q… The thought alone made him quickly look back up.

"I'm fine, really. That's not why I'm asking." It had been easy to guess what the other had been thinking and Q smiled a little at the panic in the other's eyes. "But accidents happen. I just… I'd be happier knowing that you'd want to make the right choice by me. MI6 wouldn't. I trust you." Q's appetite was suddenly gone as he wondered how badly he'd messed things up. "I really don't mind if you refuse, like I said, it's only an idea."

If asked when Bond had ended up being frozen in his silence he would have had to answer that someone telling him they trusted him whilst being fully aware of what he did. Hell, Q had even read his file. How anyone would be able to trust him as far as they could throw him after that was a question he had no idea how to answer. If it had not been for the clear honesty in Q's tone there was a very valid chance that he wouldn't have believed it.

Taking the silence the wrong way Q's shoulders sagged, feeling a lot less energetic than he had only minutes earlier. "I shouldn't have mentioned it. I'm sorry." His voice was smaller than Bond had heard it in a very long time, only triggering the memory of quite how little it had been after the spy had roughly kissed him the first time, asking what the other was doing only to kiss him back. "At least I didn't do an awkward love confession because I'm pretty certain I ran out of luck earlier."

Love. Another word that caused Bond to freeze further, looking like he'd been caught in headlights. Seemingly the word hit both of them at the same time, both barely catching it yet only one of them really wishing they hadn't. Q groaned as he resisted the urge to sink into the pillows and attempt to suffocate himself and his increasingly cruel mouth.

"Kill me before I end up making this situation any worse? Serio-"

"For a genius, Q, you can be bloody thick." The kiss that interrupted Q blaming the alcohol was sudden enough he barely had a chance to register what was happening. His hand lightly resting on the other's shoulder, allowing himself to be pushed down with a muffled chuckle.

"Is that a yes then?"

Back pressed to the pillowed Q gave a smile to the man hovering over him, glad to see perhaps things weren't as messed up as he had feared. It was unlike Bond to have a smile that looked anywhere near honest once you knew him when he wasn't happy was beyond rare. Almost as rare as him actually having a smile that could genuinely be described as happy.

"We'll talk about it later."

For once, Q really saw no point in arguing, knowing the lack of a reply was a yes in itself. Whilst he expected no reply from Bond on the emotional front he took the rare moments of affection well, easily relaxing into the kiss.

"Whatever you say James."

At least for then the world could wait a little longer to interrupt.

Just for a little bit longer.

Then things could crash down.


End file.
